Princess' Diary
by x.silver.green.x
Summary: A love beyond imagination. A love that will last forever. Diary-Like Fiction. Warning: Implicit sexual content. Please, R&R. [One-Shot]


**Declaimer:** I own nothing you recognize as J.K. Rowling's property and/or Bloomsbury Editorials, Warner Bros. Corp., among others.

**Important: **Not up for reproduction without previous authorization.

**Warning:** Implicit sexual content may be found through out the fanfic, the author is not responsible for any moral and/or ethical damage.

**Note:** Thanks to J.K. Rowling for her marvelous magical world. -. Huggles .-

_Dear Reader: Please remember that constructive feed-back is the museo f all writer. Hope you enjoy. Your Forever Author, Me._

* * *

**Princess' Diary**

**A Story By: _Julia_**

_Dear Diary..._

Did I ever tell you about my dreams when little? That I used to sit on that swing next to the little lake of Parkinson Manor'd landscape and stare into the dark, freezing water aimlessly dreaming of him. For some reason, the water reminded me hugely of him, perhaps it was the coldness in his eyes and the way they turned navy blue whenever something upset him. Still today I think I am the only one that paid enough attention to notice those little details that made him _him_.

Did I ever tell you about the way I used to smell him while we danced? Our parents used to make us go together to High Society Balls every now and then. He would escort me all night long and dance only with me. Whenever he took my waist with his delicate hands (which he tended to move with more grace than a man should be allowed to display in public), I stepped forward and, at times, lean my chin in his shoulder, smelling the strong scent of cologne and champain all together. He would chuckle softly into my ear and jokingly say that, whatever I was doing, seemed ridiculous. But I know he liked it.

I never met anyone like him. Not during school, neither when my father sent me to that trip through Northen Europe. No one ever happened to be as perfect as he was, no one ever made me feel so alive by his side.

No one ever knew what exactly happened in between us, they all thought I was the one behind his fortune. That I stupidly harrassed him, but they were all so wrong. I needn't his fortune, but his company. He enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed him, it had always been like that... I even dare thin, today it is still that way.

I remember that time in which he arrived to my home and ran directly into my room without announcing himself as he always charmilgly did. He was so eager to speak with me that he forgot about all ettiquete rule and just stormed in, his eyes glowing with what seemed to me a very strange glee. It had a slight tone of malice and yet it was beautiful, because all him was always perfect. I remember he startled me so badly, I almost fell from the seat I was in. He apologized but at the same time jumped up and down, ran across the place and spoke as if the world depended on the speed of his words.

I looked at him inquisitively and finally he understood I could catch nothing of what he meant to say. I remember his cheeks stained of a soft shade of red from so much excitement, my ears could almost catch the uneasy bumping of his heart, I could feel his excitement bounce unconfortably in my chest. My curiosity was growing amazingly until he revealed The Mark to me... and I gasped in surprise.

He asked me if I was okay, if it had been a very grand shock. He even asked me if I agreed with it. But I knew there was no other choice, no matter what I said he had already taken the mark, as his father and grandfather had done many years before our birth, and he couldn't take his word back because it meant his death.

I resumed in smiling and nodding, like if I was proud of his behaviour, but the truth is other. I felt horrified, so badly scared... As scared as that time in which I gave myself to him completely. That day when the room was suddenly filled with the thick air of a very evil sexual tension. I never found out where all that came from, but what I know for sure is that it was the most blissful first time anyone could possibly have... Worth of royalty.

He was so gentle, so empathic... I can almost hear again his soft thick voice in my ear, saying that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, that he knew there would be just a tiny bit of pain but that it meant something really sacrade. As sacrade as the mark on his arm.

That night I cried while he embraced me. He never noticed my tears because he had drifted off a very deep sleep, but I cried. I cried because I was happy, because I had finally gotten what I wanted. I cried because he was perfect and I didn't know if I was as perfect as he had expected. But I am not ashamed of my tears or of what we did, even when it was out of marriage. He taught me to live the moment as if it was the last one, he taught me to embrace my decitions, no matter the other's opinions. He taught me to handle my fears and turned them into great strenghth, he taught me to free myself, he taught me to love...

He was my best friend, my lover, my confident, my enemy, the person I hated the most but the one I loved the most too. He was my moon in the dark nightsky, my drop of water in the dessert and I was his everything, because he could only think of me and no one and nothing else. I knew it from the very first moment that we kissed that we would end up together for eternity. That our souls were meant to be together. I knew that we were made to each other and our union was the only truthful thing in the world.

Today when I think of the way he died and who was responsible for that, my eyes are filled with those tears that I didn't spilled that one night of passion we shared. Today that I am kneeling before his grave in the middle of nothing I can recall many things that were once lost in my mind. Today I do not blame his Lord for this, today I only blame myself. I was never perfect enough, I was not perfect enough to stop him from risking his life in that way. Today I look at myself and I see life, he will come back. But this time I won't call him My Draco Malfoy or My Slytheirn Prince; today, tomorrow and forever he will be my son. Our son.

Dear Diary, I lost the reason of my existance, but Draco was never selfish as many used to think. He left forever but gave me the most precious gift a woman can recieve, the product of true and only love.

Always Yours.

_ Pansy P. _

"_Slytherin Princess"_


End file.
